


In The Aftermath

by de_klaire



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Tsunami (9-1-1), Tsunami (9-1-1 TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:01:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25850998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/de_klaire/pseuds/de_klaire
Summary: Eddie stared, unblinking, unbreathing. He felt like he was going to be sick. Buck was alive. He was stable. So why was Maddie, one of the strongest people in the room, in hysterics? What could possibly be so bad that it had her in a state neither the fire truck nor the pulmonary embolism had brought her to?“Maddie?” Bobby spoke quietly. “What happened?”Chim looked from the sobbing woman to his captain, looking like he’d been punched hard in the stomach.“They had to amputate.”OrAfter everything that happened with the fire truck crushing Buck’e leg and recovering from it, Buck loses the limb to a tsunami.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Firehouse 118 Crew, Evan “Buck” Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re great.” Buck couldn’t look away from the father and son. He was fixated on the sight, realizing that Chris was finally safe. He hadn’t killed him. The boy had been found, and he had Eddie, and he was going to be okay. That was roughly the moment all the adrenalin stopped flooding through Buck’s system, pain and exhaustion crashing down on him.

A searing pain ran up his bad leg and he grunted as his knees buckled, steady hands catching him before he could hit the ground. 

He gripped at someone's arm. Hen’s, probably because her soothing voice was quickly washing over him. “Hang in there, hang in there Buck.” He wanted to listen, but without the thought of ‘find Christopher’ driving him forward, he couldn’t find the will to do so.

His vision was fading in and out of focus, going grey at the edges. His chest heaved in air, trying to expel the dizziness. 

“Lay him down, check him over,” Bobby’s command came through the ringing in his ears, and he could feel himself being moved horizontally. 

“Chim, let’s get an IV going, oxygen too.” Hen spoke again, voice edging on panicked. “Buck, open those baby blues for me, okay?” He wasn’t sure when they had closed but he obeyed, peeling his eyelids open to see the triage tent above him. When had he been moved into the tent? Was Chris there too? He was supposed to be finding Chris. 

He struggled to sit up, only to be held down by several pairs of strong arms. “Woah there, buddy. Slow your roll.” Chim was frowning down at him. Buck reached up, grabbing the man’s jacket to pull him closer.

“Chim, we gotta find Christopher. He got dragged under by the second wave, we have to find him.” His voice was breaking, and the people around him were sharing nervous glances, which was sending chills down his spine. “No… No, don’t tell me he’s-”

“No, Evan, no.” And then Eddie was there, cupping Buck’s face in his hands to make him look into his eyes. “Chris is fine. He’s okay”

“Eddie?” Buck’s voice came out in somewhat of a wine. “Eddie, I’m so sorry. He-he just vanished. I lost him.”

“You saved him, Ev. Okay? Christopher’s alright, and he’s going on and on about his Buck saved him. Now I need you to let Hen and Chim help you, alright?” Buck hesitated before nodding, letting his body drop back onto the cot he’d been laid on, shaking with cold and exhaustion. 

Buck wanted to stay awake, he did, and everyone was telling him too. But his leg burned, and his head was pounding, and Eddie had promised that Chris was finally safe. So he allowed his exhaustion to take over, eyelids drooping even as his team shouted out protests. His body began to go numb and tingly, and he finally drifted off, dreaming of red glasses and water. 

\---

The 118 had become far too comfortable in waiting rooms. Hen had befriended half the staff, Chim knew which machine had the best coffee, and Eddie had made an art out of turning rows of hospital chairs into beds. They had become comfortable in the waiting rooms, just not with the waiting part. 

Chris was passed out in Eddie’s lap, and it was obvious the man was trying hard not to fidget. Bobby didn’t have that problem, getting up regularly to pace. Maddie and Chim sat huddled in the corner, quietly clinging to each other. To make matters worse, Hen had to stay behind at the triage sight, making their team two short. 

“Any news yet?” Athena stepped into the room, having taken a walk to calm her nerves.

“Nothing.” Bobby replied, and everyone shifted uncomfortably. 

“But no news is good news, right?” Chim offered half heartedly.

“Surgery shouldn’t be taking this long. They were just supposed to clean out the wounds and make sure his lungs were clear.” Maddie’s eyes began to fill with tears not for the first time that night. 

They lapsed back into silence, Athena forcing Bobby to sit down, claiming the pacing would drive her up a wall. Eddie was silently thankful, because it really had been driving him a little crazy. 

Time moved by slowly, each second creeping on to remind them something must have gone wrong. So when the doctor finally emerged, no one seemed particularly hopeful. Eddie swallowed hard when he noticed the blood staining the woman’s shoes.

“Family for Evan Buckely?” Everyone stood except for Eddie, who didn’t want Chris to wake in case the news wasn’t good. The woman’s smile was tired as she began to speak.

“Well, first of all, Buck is stable,” That brought a collective sigh from the group. “However, there were some complications in surgery we need to discuss.” She turned to Maddie, “Would you come with me, please?” 

Maddie glanced around the rest of the room before locking eyes with Eddie, as if asking permission. He just nodded, and Maddie stood, Chim’s hand clenched tightly in her own as she followed the doctor out of the room.   
\---

Five minutes ticked by. Then ten. Twenty. Eddie felt like he was about to crawl out of his own skin. What was taking so long? How bad was this exactly?

After spending almost an hour wishing for Maddie’s return, she entered the waiting room, and he wished she hadn’t. 

It only took one glance to know it was bad. Tears were tracking down her face, hand trembling in Chim’s as she took shuddering breaths. 

“Maddie?” Athena was the first to speak, stepping closer to the woman. 

“I- I can’t.” She bit her lip, sobs beginning to wrack her body as she fell into the other woman’s arms.

Eddie stared, unblinking, unbreathing. He felt like he was going to be sick. Buck was alive. He was stable. So why was Maddie, one of the strongest people in the room, in hysterics? What could possibly be so bad that it had her in a state neither the fire truck nor the pulmonary embolism had brought her to?

“Maddie?” Bobby spoke quietly. “What happened?”

Chim looked from the sobbing woman to his captain, looking like he’d been punched hard in the stomach. 

“They had to amputate.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just want to say that this chapter and coming chapter will include negative thought and speech in regard to Buck losing his limb. The struggle will be fairly intense, and will include him feeling useless or ‘less than’ because of the amputation. First of all, if this may be a triggering topic for you, use discretion and stay safe. This may not be the fic for you. I also want to note that this is not how I feel about people with amputations or who’ve lost limbs in some other way. Worth is in no way defined by that aspect of a persons life. Those people are just as strong, beautiful, talented, and worthy as any able bodied person. Anyway, that’s all for now. Enjoy the new chapter!

Leaving the hospital was the hardest thing Eddie’d ever had to do. His mind and body screamed at him to stay with Buck, who was going to wake up in a world without a leg. A world where he couldn’t even run or jump, much less be a firefighter. He wanted nothing more than to stay.

But his responsibility as a parent had to come first, and he knew Buck would agree. If Buck were awake, he wouldn’t have let him keep an exhausted, unshowered Christopher away from home as long as he did. So with many promises from Bobby to call with any updates, he got in his truck and drove home. 

When he lifted a sleeping Christopher from the back seat the boy stirred , squirming in the man’s arms. “Buck?” His little voice cried out, hands reaching out for his best friend. 

“No, mijo. Just me.” Eddie’s voice was filled with regret, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at his son. He’s wasn’t sure he could handle the longing he’d see in that little face.

Christopher had fallen back asleep by the time Eddie got him to bed, deciding to leave him in the child-sized scrubs from the hospital rather than waking him.

Eddie allowed his gaze to linger, taking a moment to allow everything to sink in for the first time that night. His breath hitched at the thought that he could have lost his son. Or Buck. Or both. 

If he stared at Christopher’s sleeping form for a few more minutes, just to remind himself that he didn’t lose him, no ones around to say anything. 

Eddie slowly tracked his way into the kitchen, slumping onto a stool by the table. He should probably eat, hydrate, but the thought of consuming anything makes the man’s stomach turn. 

Instead, he closed his eyes and laid his head in his hands. Tried to block out the images bombarding his brain. Bodies, floating in the water. Christopher, wrapped in a strangers arms. Buck, collapsing. Buck, drowning. Buck, waking up without his leg. He find himself lurching for the trash can, stomach betraying him at the thought. 

\---

Maddie brushed her fingers through Buck’s hair, trying to work away the knots in the strands. She wished she could wash it properly. Shampoo away the bits of debris and thick layer of salt that leave her hands greasy. She would even settle for a comb at this point.

Logically, Maddie knew what she was doing. Hyperfocusing on a small detail to ignore the much bigger, looming issues. She refused to look. To acknowledge where the sheets lie flat in the absence of Buck’s leg. 

They’d made the cut just above the knee, which had made her curse when she found out. If only she’d been there to fight them. To let him keep the single joint that could have made prosthetics, and mobility, and life so much easier for her little brother. 

She has gone over and over the doctor’s words in her mind, trying to wrap her head around exactly how this had happened. 

In the end, the blood thinners that were meant to save Buck’s leg, had cost him the limb. A simply cut, just below Buck’s knee, probably caused by debris, had become infected in the water. He’d ignored it so long looking for Christopher, that when he’d gotten to the hospital, the simple cut had turned into a much larger problem. 

They had tried to clean out the infected area, said they would have been able to in most circumstances, but he was bleeding too quickly. If they’d taken the time to do the surgery they wanted, he would have bled out on the table. So instead, they amputated, affectlivly saving and changing his life in one go. 

The thought made her sick. The thought of explaining it to him made her sick. Because Evan was so many things; independent, active, a freaking everyday superhero. And all these things didn’t match up with her version of Buck that she imagined without a leg. The only way she could imagine him now was broken. That thought made her sick too.

She was horrible. An awful excuse for a big sister who was already giving up on her brother, despite the strength he’d shown again and again. No, she would believe he could get past this. This wasn’t breaking him. It was just breaking her. 

—-

People in books always wake up to three things in the hospital: the beeping of machines, the smell of antiseptic, or pain. For Buck though, the first thing he always notices was the taste. 

Especially after a surgery, his mouth was always bitter with medication and left over plastic flavoring from breathing tubes. Morning breath had nothing on this. 

He began the mental checklist. Hearing? The machine beside him was indeed beeping, someone was talking softly nearby. Sight? He peeled his eyelids open, noticing several people moving in his perephrial vision. Voice? “Hey, guys.” Limbs? 

He glanced down, counted two arms, five fingers each. A right leg, toes all in tact, and- oh. Oh. Oh.

“Evan?” Maddie spoke softly, face coming fully into his vision, eyes full of pain. 

“Mads?” His voice was raspy, but not from tears. Just need of water. She glanced to the others, Eddie, Chim, and Bobby, he vaguely noticed. 

“How are you feeling.” He looked from his leg, or lack thereof, and back to her. Opened his mouth to say something. To his great surprise, a laugh Bubbled out. And then it didn’t stop, becoming louder as choked it out, chest heaving. 

The people around him were sharing worried glances, letting him know he looked just as hysterical as he felt. He could barely breathe through the laughter. 

“How messed up is that? All that physical therapy for nothing!” At some point his laughs become sobs. The worried looks turn into reassuring words as he’s pulled into someone’s arms. 

It’s not Maddie, as he realizes. It doesn’t have her softness or lightness of touch. This is all hard lines and a grip so fierce he couldn’t get out if he wanted to. 

“They cut off my leg.” He gasps into the others man’s chest. 

“I know.” 

“How am I going to live like this?” 

“You just will.”


End file.
